


Cold Planet

by XianFrost



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-07-18
Packaged: 2018-02-09 08:27:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1975995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XianFrost/pseuds/XianFrost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For misfireofficial<br/>---<br/>The Scavengers touch down on a planet for supplies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Planet

It had been a pretty exhausting cycle and the W.A.P. wasn't the warmest place when it was parked.

They had touched down near an abandoned energon refinery. It was old, most likely abandoned before the war, but they had been able to break down some of the more intact machines. Most of the energon had been cleared out, and what hadn't been eaten by glitch mice had been eagerly stored away by Misfire.

"This is awesome!" Misfire hugged his box of raw energon crystals to his chest. If he distilled it right everyone could have a small cube and there would be enough left over for the engines. Misfire was sure his face was going to hurt from how wide his smile was.

"Don’t shake that stuff around too much or it’ll explode." Crankcase warned, dumping his box of spare parts on an empty table. "Remember what happened last time?"

Misfire’s smile got smaller when he thought back on his first attempt at distilling crystals. There was still a Misfire shaped outline on the storage room wall. No one was ever going to let him live that down.

///

Fulcrum didn't even notice the chill until he stopped working. He placed the rivet gun on the ground, rubbing his wrists to calm the wires that had pulled taut from the weight of the machine.

It was getting dark but he had patched up the holes on the outer hull. The W.A.P. had seen better days but it was in better shape than when Fulcrum joined the crew. Still looked like scrap though. Most of the original hull was gone, replaced with whatever the Scavengers could find.

He just hoped the continued patches would get them to Cybertron.

Fulcrum glanced behind him at the energon refinery. He could see Krok and Spinister coming out of the building with their arms full of heavy boxes. He waved, before picking the rivet gun back up to join them.

"Where’s Grimlock?" Krok asked when the K-con caught up with them.

"Crankcase borrowed him." Fulcrum held up a hand to stop the next question. "He has him putting stuff in storage." The last time Fulcrum had checked in on them, Grimlock had been sorting things that vaguely looked like they belonged in a mech into a large box.

///

"This planet’s cold." Misfire complained, handing out the cubes he had distilled earlier. They were still warm and glowed softly in the shoddy lighting of the W.A.P.s sleeping quarters. There used to be separate rooms instead of the one big one, but the walls have long since been torn down to repair other parts of the ship.

"Not that bad." Spinister said, before glaring into the bottom of his cube. Krok hoped he didn't shoot the energon. He had no desire to be near an exploding cube again.

Misfire’s wings twitched when he handed the last of the cubes out. “Well, I’m pretty sure I saw ice forming on one of the viewports.” The jet flopped on Crankcase’s berth and curled around the pilot. He ignored Crankcase’s huff and sipped on his cube.

"If it gets any worse we’ll just do what we did last time." Krok said simply, letting the energon warm his servos from the chill of the room.

"What did you do last time?" Fulcrum asked, unsure if he wanted the answer.

"An emergency huddle." Spinister said, swirling his cube around to watch the glow.

///

The berths had been pushed together and spare blankets had been brought out. Grimlock had taken up most of the space in the middle, hugging Fulcrum to his chest.

Misfire had complained before Crankcase knocked him in the head with a pillow. The jet’s wings pulled down before he grabbed a blanket and curled up behind Crankcase. The pilot grumbled when he was pulled back to press against Misfire’s chest but didn't move away.

Grimlock snored, hugging the smaller mech to his chest. Fulcrum didn't mind. He could comfortably sprawl out on Grimlock’s chest and the Dinobot was like a furnace. Misfire had stopped complaining about the cold when Grimlock had moved underneath the blankets.

Spinister was much more quiet in his sleep. He had moved the blankets around to make a small nest to block him out from the others and had dragged Krok down with him. The smaller commander would have smiled if he was able and was content to listen to the small rumble of the medic’s engines. It was a nice purr that lulled him to sleep.


End file.
